


the firefly.

by andnowforyaya



Series: blue moon pet house series [6]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Gaslighting, M/M, Manipulation, Master/Pet, Pets, a bit?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 03:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: “What would you be,” Minhyuk asks, startling Kihyun out of his reverie so that his fingers freeze over Minhyuk’s spine, “if you weren’t a pet?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> October 2, 2017 Update:
> 
> Fanart linked at the bottom, from @vampireminhyuk !!

Minhyuk isn't stupid; he figures out early on that the masters at Blue Moon play favorites even if they claim they don't. It's not anything to get riled up about, because Masters Hyunwoo and Hoseok are both so egalitarian in their treatment of the pets during the day, but at night --

At night Minhyuk has watched how the scene shifts. Who sleeps in whose beds. Hyunwoo is enthralled by Hyungwon and his lazy, condescending affect that Minhyuk is at least 90% certain the pet wears like a mask, and Hoseok is head over heels for Kihyun. He'd tried getting between them in the beginning but chalked it up to a lost cause when all Hoseok would talk about when they were alone together was the other pet.

The most he can hope for is to stay in both Hyunwoo and Hoseok's good graces, though Hoseok is infinitely easier to read and please. Minhyuk just has to remain close to Kihyun, is all.

.

The morning is still, hovering over Minhyuk with its fragile quiet. Kihyun had sought Minhyuk a few hours ago when the sun had yet to rise over the horizon, climbing into bed with him and pulling Minhyuk’s arms around his waist. “Master Hoseok went to the gym,” he'd mumbled into Minhyuk’s chest as an explanation, yawning.

Minhyuk fell back asleep soon after, carding his fingers through Kihyun's short hair.

He likes being the one Kihyun goes to after Hoseok; it means he is needed, and important. If Kihyun needs him, then Hoseok needs him, too.

He knows Kihyun is awake because the other pet’s short fingers are tapping along Minhyuk’s waist and over the small of his back, playing his bones like a piano. He wonders if Kihyun ever played, if his previous owners or trainers had ever given him such a luxury.

“What would you be,” Minhyuk asks, startling Kihyun out of his reverie so that his fingers freeze over Minhyuk’s spine, “if you weren’t a pet?”

“I…” Kihyun starts, hesitating. He tilts his face up at Minhyuk. His eyebrows are furrowed as he thinks, his lips pressed together in an unhappy line. “I don't know.”

“Well, what do you like to do?” Minhyuk says encouragingly. He runs his fingers through Kihyun's hair and chuckles when the pet automatically leans into it, eyelids fluttering closed. Kihyun is easy in that way -- responsive to attention and so eager for it no matter what kind of attention it is.

Kihyun sighs and says, “I like to sing.”

Minhyuk’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “I haven’t heard you before.” But he can imagine it, Kihyun's rich voice in melody.

“I haven't sung in a long time,” Kihyun admits, his eyes darkening even as the sun begins to break through the clouds outside and shine ever brighter into Minhyuk’s room. “It’s a childish hobby. My previous master didn't like it.”

“Don't have a good voice?” Minhyuk teases.

Kihyun squirms a little in his hold, shying away from his gaze. Minhyuk can see a little bit why Hoseok is so enamored of him; the way Kihyun carries himself makes a person want either to destroy him or hold him close and protected, cared for. A goldmine for clients of any sort.

“It wasn't that,” Kihyun says. “He said -- he said I sounded too happy when I sang, and that the clients wouldn't like that.”

Minhyuks holds him tighter as Kihyun tucks his face against Minhyuk’s neck. “What an awful thing for him to say,” he murmurs, stroking Kihyun's back. An idea strikes him, and he hides his grin by biting the inside of his cheek. “I'm sure Master Hoseok wouldn't mind. He might even like it.”

Kihyun is quiet, thinking, disappearing again into himself. Minhyuk doesn't mind these moments between them, either. He's certainly dealt with worse. He watches as the idea takes hold in Kihyun’s mind -- it’s in the tense line of his shoulders and the way he curls closer, uncertain but hopeful.

Kihyun's voice is small and faraway when he says, “What about you?”

“What?” This time it is Minhyuk who is startled. He thought for sure Kihyun would ask him how Master Hoseok might respond to his singing, press him for scenarios both logical and fantastical, ask Minhyuk to indulge him for a short while.

“What would you want to be if you weren't a pet?” Kihyun asks patiently, and genuinely curious.

Minhyuk grins. It is small surprises like these that keep him interested in Kihyun. He says, “There's no point in questions like that, Kihyunnie.”

Kihyun looks up at him again, a tiny frown on his face, a storm behind his dark eyes. His lips are so, so red, Minhyuk thinks. They look so soft, and Minhyuk wants to bite them.

Kihyun doesn't say anything in response.

.

Hyunwoo’s bicep is solid and warm under Minhyuk’s cheek. He shifts so that Minhyuk can lay his head in his lap instead, more comfortable for them both this way.

They are watching a cast on Hyunwoo’s tablet, and it is raining outside. The other pets have followed Hoseok down to the sauna in the hotel for a soak and thorough wash, a treat after their good work for the past few weeks. No incident has graced their rooms since Hoseok’s encounter with that client of Kihyun’s, Hoseok's bruises long since faded, and Minhyuk thinks that the treat may also be Hoseok’s way of thanking the other pets for their patience and understanding with him.

Minhyuk does not need such a reward or acknowledgment, and chose to remain with Hyunwoo. He _does_ need time with the older man, anyway.

“Is this boring for you?” Hyunwoo asks. He’s turned the channel to the news. The anchor explains that they will be interviewing candidates in the running for Governor of New Seoul shortly.

“Not at all,” Minhyuk says, stifling his yawn. The content coupled with the rain outside and Hyunwoo’s warmth is slowly lulling him to sleep, but it isn’t boring. Hyunwoo’s presence is huge even when he is being perfectly still, welcoming even if he hasn’t said more than ten words in Minhyuk’s presence so far. He's pragmatic and plain-spoken in a way that could be dangerous for Minhyuk, who has more than on one occasion told him the pure truth. “I love the news.”

Hyunwoo shifts at that, and Minhyuk recognizes the small noises he’s making as stifled laughter. When he looks up, Hyunwoo’s smile has pushed up his cheeks on his face, creating lines around his eyes. “You know just what to say, don’t you?”

Minhyuk hums and turns back around to face the tablet held out by Hyunwoo’s hand. He takes the tablet and pulls out the kickstand attachment and places it on the bed about an arm’s length away from him so that he’s not staring cross-eyed at the screen, and Hyunwoo allows this. “I trained for it,” Minhyuk says lightly.

Hyunwoo’s hand lands in his hair.

On the screen, an anchor woman is greeting a familiar-looking man and guiding him to sit across from her in an armchair, the setting formal -- a staged office with a view of New Seoul behind them.  

“I know him,” Minhyuk says. “I know his face.”

“Bang Yongguk?” Hyunwoo asks.

“Yeah,” Minhyuk says. “He was at the beach with us. He and Master Hoseok -- they spoke a few times.”

“Hm,” Hyunwoo acknowledges. “Hoseok never mentioned.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Hyunwoo is contemplative. Then he says, “Perhaps he was worried what I would think about him associating himself with a man like Bang Yongguk.”

Yongguk’s voice is low, lower than Minhyuk could have ever imagined, and makes him feel like he’s right there in the room with them, his voice reverberating off the walls. He’s saying, his eyes fixed on the anchor woman’s, “I believe fundamentally that governments have an obligation to their people, to ensure that all men and women are treated equally under the law. I don’t see what’s so radical about that.”

The anchor woman's voice is bright like the chirping of a bird in comparison. “Your campaign has been accused of using galvanizing language. Do you see any connections between your platform and the rise of protests and riots in some neighborhoods of New Seoul?”

Yongguk sits back in his seat with a shit-eating grin on his face. Minhyuk leans closer to the screen, Hyunwoo's hand tightening in his hair.

“Of course there is a correlation,” Yongguk admits to easily. “My campaign is about spreading knowledge about what’s wrong with the world, and what we’re going to do to make it right. Young people are taking up the mantel. I do not condone violence or anything that could lead to physical harm or endangerment, but -- I would also say there’s always such a fine line, isn’t there? Change is dangerous.”

The anchor woman doesn’t answer his question but launches instead into her next one. “You were recently quoted as saying that many groups of people in New Seoul currently are not being treated fairly under the law. And you seek to right that. Chief among these “people” you speak of are--”

Hyunwoo switches the channel to some other broadcast -- an episode from a melodrama series right in the middle of a crying scene, but Minhyuk knows what Yongguk had been about to say.

“I was watching that,” Minhyuk mumbles, toying with the fabric of Hyunwoo’s soft pants over his knee.

“As many people are, right now,” Hyunwoo says, and nothing further. His hand is still in Minhyuk’s hair, a comforting weight. A reminder.

“When we were at the beach, there was a master -- his name was Himchan. His pet Daehyun was splendid, dripping in jewels. He was Himchan’s only pet, only he didn’t seem like a pet at all, sometimes.” Minhyuk bites into his bottom lip and asks, “Master Hyunwoo, how did you come to be a master?”

Hyunwoo’s answer is simple and straightforward. “I inherited it.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“I enjoy taking care of you boys.” Another simple and straightforward answer.

Minhyuk turns to face Hyunwoo, searching out his eyes. He asks, “Do you enjoy the power you have over the House and the inhabitants?”

Hyunwoo pauses. The wait, to Minhyuk, is excruciating. His heart beats rapidly in his chest but he schools his face into a neutral expression, a hint of teasing in the curl of his lips. Hyunwoo’s face seems made of stone, all hard lines, his brows slightly furrowed. Then it softens almost imperceptibly, and he brushes his fingers through Minhyuk’s hair again, leaning down to press a kiss to Minhyuk’s forehead.

“Sometimes I think you are too clever for your own good,” the master says. “It’s not yet time to ask such questions.”

Minhyuk acquiesces, and smiles.

.

Minhyuk pushes thoughts of Bang Yongguk and the beach and what he saw there to the back of his mind. Hyunwoo is right; it is not yet time to dwell on such things, not when he has it so good here. He’s almost bored.

But then there is Kihyun. They are in the master’s suite now, entertaining each other as Hoseok sits at the reading chair in the corner fretting over numbers on his tablet. Minhyuk thinks running a business seems awfully boring. Kihyun laughs as Minhyuk digs his thumb into a sensitive spot by his hip and then they are rolling over each other on the bed, play-fighting like that always do, tempting Hoseok to join them.

The master glances up once regretfully before looking down to his screen again, muttering to himself.

Kihyun sits up, breathless, as Minhyuk throws an arm around his narrow shoulders.

“I thought you were going to play with us,” Minhyuk whines plaintively, throwing a glance with doll-like eyes in Hoseok’s direction.

Hoseok says, “I just need to finish this sheet. And then I can join you.”

Minhyuk whines again, looping both arms around Kihyun’s shoulders and dragging him down to the bed.

Kihyun lands with a surprised exhale and an aborted laugh as Minhyuk nuzzles into the side of his neck. “Minhyuk…”

“What?” Minhyuk asks innocently. He trails one hand blindly down Kihyun’s chest over the shirt he’s wearing -- one of Hoseok’s -- and cups his palm over the bulge in Kihyun’s briefs. Kihyun arches into it, a whine in the back of his throat, and finally Hoseok is looking up again, his cheeks reddening. “Master Hoseok didn’t say we couldn’t have fun by ourselves.”

“You’ll wear me out,” Kihyun complains, and Minhyuk rolls off of him with a huff. Anyway, Kihyun is right. Minhyuk can’t seem to help himself around Kihyun recently, when they get started; can’t stop until Kihyun is a panting, moaning mess and barely able to sit up in bed.

“Fine,” Minhyuk says, a wicked grin spreading across his lips as he watches Hoseok out of the corner of his eye. Keep him interested and entertained, Minhyuk thinks. “Then sing for me instead.”

Kihyun’s response is a splutter, not even a word. His chest rising and falling faster and faster. Minhyuk presses his palm against Kihyun’s sternum and feels how quick his heart is beating. The rush of anxiety in Kihyun gives Minhyuk a sick sense of satisfaction and pride. He wants to be the one to soothe him, also, with Hoseok watching.

“Shh,” Minhyuk coos. “It’s okay. Look, Master Hoseok is interested, too.”

Kihyun pushes himself to sit up, and Minhyuk helps him, rising with him and holding him close. Gradually, the panic subsides as Minhyuk rubs circles with a warm palm over the small of Kihyun’s back.

Hoseok says, his voice gritty and raw, “You never told me you sing.”

“He’s good at it, too,” Minhyuk says, even though he’s never heard Kihyun. Kihyun turns to him sharply, his eyes narrowed and his expression like the edge of a knife. It sends a little thrill of Minhyuk’s spine. “What? You are.”

“You’ve never heard me,” Kihyun mumbles. “You don’t know.”

“C’mon,” Minhyuk urges, still rubbing circles with his hand, “show Master Hoseok how good you are.”

“Please,” Hoseok whispers. “I’d love to hear it.”

His eyes are so focused on Kihyun, Minhyuk might as well not even be in the room. This is okay. Later, Hoseok will remember that Minhyuk is the one who suggested it.

Kihyun clears his throat and shifts around on the bed. Then clears his throat again. He looks at Minhyuk, uncertain, reaching out with his hand, and Minhyuk takes it, feeling how Kihyun’s fingers are shaking. He squeezes Kihyun’s hand and smiles beatifically at him.

The song is one Minhyuk is familiar with, an old tune that would be sung to babies to lull them to sleep about a witch that would snatch them from their cradles if they misbehaved. A haunting tune in a minor key.

Kihyun starts off weak, his notes folding in on themselves and out of tune due to his nerves, but then he catches himself halfway through the first verse and breaks through whatever it was that was holding him back.

And he sings like an angel. Each note strong and resonant. It reminds Minhyuk of perfectly cut glass, refracting light into shards of color. Kihyun sings through two more verses, controlling his voice expertly, crescendoing in volume or pulling back just enough to make Minhyuk and Hoseok strain closer to hear. At some point, Kihyun’s eyelids flutter shut and then it’s just him and his song, and Minhyuk watches a change come over the pet like he is shedding a layer of skin; he thinks he’s never seen Kihyun so peaceful or content, not even when he’s with Hoseok. It draws out a horrible hunger in Minhyuk’s heart, making it clench.

Minhyuk wrenches his gaze away from Kihyun to look at Hoseok and sees the master hypnotized, lips slightly parted and eyes unfocused, shimmering with an emotion deeper than awe or lust.

Kihyun ends the song with a lilting note, sweet and rich and full like dark molasses, drawing it out until he has no more breath left within him. Only then does he open his eyes, the note still ringing in the air.

When it dies away, finally, Kihyun is panting slightly, looking between Hoseok and Minhyuk and curling up, defensive. “I know it's not that good--”

“Kihyun,” Hoseok says. His interruption makes Kihyun jump on the bed. “Baby, that was amazing.”

Kihyun’s hand tightens around Minhyuk’s. “Really?”

“My mother used to sing that to me,” Hoseok says next, dropping his gaze temporarily. He raises his eyes again with a small smile on his face, an innocent smile. Minhyuk blinks, having never considered Hoseok to be capable of such an expression. “Though I definitely prefer your version.”

“My mother used to sing it to me, too,” Kihyun says. “She...taught me how to sing. She’d teach me little phrases and verses in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep.”

Minhyuk feels his lips curve upwards as his mind supplies this image. “I can see that perfectly. A tiny Kihyunnie climbing into your mother’s bed in the middle of the night. Your sleeping habits haven’t changed, then.”

“Guess not,” Kihyun says quietly.

A somber weight falls over them as they think of their mothers. Kihyun tilts his head to rest against Minhyuk’s shoulder and sighs.

Hoseok is quiet in the armchair, looking at them both. Finally he rises and walks over to them with steady steps, each footfall deliberate. He bends slightly when he reaches them to kiss the tops of their heads, one after another, before climbing onto the mattress and laying back against the pillows. He draws Kihyun and Minhyuk to either side of him like magnets, arms around them both.

As Minhyuk lays against Hoseok he soon becomes restless with the lethargic energy in the room, feels his blood pooling, thick and hot in his legs and arms. He says brightly, palm flat against Hoseok’s chest, “My mother taught me riddles. Would you like to hear some?”

Hoseok chuckles and the grey somber weight breaks. He ruffles the hair on top of Minhyuk’s head affectionately. “Give it a go, then.”

Minhyuk tells riddles for much of the afternoon, coaxing laughter and smiles out of them both, Kihyun's laugh like the ringing of bells, until it is time for evening service to begin.

.

Kihyun’s fingers are gentle on Minhyuk’s face as he tilts his chin up. He tells him to close his eyes and Minhyuk does so, exhaling, sitting in the stool in front of his vanity as Kihyun draws a soft brush over the line of his eyelashes.

“Don’t make me look like a clown,” Minhyuk mumbles, trying to keep the rest of his face still.

Kihyun giggles and Minhyuk peeks with one eye, seeing how Kihyun’s cheeks crinkle as he throws his head back. “I would never,” Kihyun says sincerely. Even though he would, to tease Minhyuk.

“Remember, I get to do you next," he warns.

“Of course,” Kihyun says, gesturing for Minhyuk to close his eyes again.

It’s silent as Kihyun concentrates. Minhyuk feels the soft bristles of a brush over his lash line again, then a slightly larger brush over his lids. Kihyun uses a round headed brush for Minhyuk’s cheeks, and then he’s holding Minhyuk’s chin again gently with his fingers as he draws color onto Minhyuk’s lips.

Minhyuk parts them slightly for Kihyun’s benefit, peeking again. Kihyun looks so focused, staring hard at Minhyuk with a wrinkle in a straight line over the bridge of his nose. “Careful, or your face will stay like that,” he warns.

Kihyun makes a noise of frustration as the lipstick veers off course. “Why did you talk _while_ I was putting lipstick on you?” he nags. 

“I couldn’t help myself,” Minhyuk says, watching as Kihyun searches his vanity for oil to dab over Minhyuk’s skin to clean the unintended marks. Kihyun is gentle again as he cleans the stray lipstick over Minhyuk’s cheek.

“There,” Kihyun says. “All done.” He turns Minhyuk to face the mirror.

His eyes are smoldering, a hint of gold in the corners, and his lips are a deep, vibrant red. It’s a more dramatic look than he’s ever gone for in the past, but Minhyuk admits that it works for him. He raises a brow at himself in the mirror appreciatively.

“Do you like it?” Kihyun asks.

“It’s good,” Minhyuk says, standing swiftly. “Okay, now my turn.” He plops Kihyun down on the seat.

Tonight the pets are wearing leather and delicate chains, and Kihyun has a gold body chain draped over his front, dangling from his collar, brushing teasingly over his nipples. Minhyuk looks more hard-edged in leather pants and a harness. When Kihyun sits, the soft muscles of his stomach fold slightly over the waistband of his pants. Minhyuk has the sharp urge, suddenly, to leave teeth marks there in Kihyun's skin.

He tells Kihyun to close his eyes, and Kihyun does so. Kihyun’s blind trust of Minhyuk is exhilarating. It had taken only a few weeks, a few moments of kindness, for Minhyuk to win Kihyun over so fully and completely. Minhyuk watches the way Kihyun’s eyelashes tremor against the tops of his cheeks, how he breathes lightly through his nose and parted lips, how his pulse jumps at the side of his neck.

How vulnerable. He cups his hand over the warm beating of Kihyun’s blood, his thumb rubbing under Kihyun’s jaw. Kihyun leans into the touch, inviting it. How quickly Minhyuk could change from this to pressing his thumb against Kihyun’s throat instead. He wonders, how long would Kihyun stay docile like this for him if he were to do so?

He puts a layer of foundation on Kihyun’s face first with a large brush, the mineral dust clouding the air. “Your skin is so nice,” Minhyuk says.

“Yours is, too,” Kihyun returns, grinning a little. When Minhyuk tsks, though, he quickly neutralizes any expression on his face again.

Minhyuk applies contour next, just slightly. Kihyun doesn’t need much, just enough to make his cheekbones seem sharper. “I keep thinking about your voice, Kihyunnie,” Minhyuk says. “How you sing. You should perform for the House, the way Hyungwon dances sometimes.”

Even through the makeup, Minhyuk can see the way Kihyun’s skin flushes at the thought. “I couldn’t do that,” Kihyun whispers.

“You could,” Minhyuk says. “Master Hoseok would love it, too.”

Kihyun is unable to keep the dopey expression off his face at the mention of Hoseok’s name. His eyebrows lose any tension as he smiles. An image comes unbidden to the forefront of Minhyuk's mind: Kihyun's skin pink and hot and raw from Minhyuk's hand. He applies blush to Kihyun’s cheeks, wondering how many times his palm would have to strike Kihyun for his skin to glisten like it does in the image.

“Master Hoseok has asked me to sing for him in private,” Kihyun offers shyly, eyes still closed obediently. “Sometimes he falls asleep to it. Like a baby.” 

Minhyuk pulls a face that Kihyun does not see. He says, harsh and without any embellishments: “He’s in love with you.”

Kihyun’s eyelids fly open. Minhyuk takes hold of Kihyun’s chin and steadies him, pointing a tiny-headed brush to Kihyun’s bottom lash line. “Look up,” Minhyuk says.

Kihyun breathes through his mouth, looking up as Minhyuk lines his eyes, his hands in fists in his lap. “In love?” he asks.

“Any fool could see it,” Minhyuk says. He isn’t finished yet when Kihyun moves, and the brush jabs into the sensitive skin under the other pet’s eye. Kihyun yelps in pain as Minhyuk pulls away quickly and throws the brush to the vanity. “Kihyun! Oh my god, let me see.”

He cups Kihyun’s face with his hands, and pulls Kihyun's fingers away from rubbing at his eye, examining him. The eye is slightly red and irritated but that is all -- it will fade in a few minutes. But Kihyun is crying, from the shock or the pain, Minhyuk doesn’t know. He wipes with his thumbs over Kihyun’s cheeks where the black powder from his lashes is running in dark, shadowy trails.

“Sorry,” Kihyun says. “I shouldn’t have moved.”

“Silly boy,” Minhyuk tuts. He finds soft cotton pads to wipe down Kihyun’s face. “I did tell you from the beginning to be wary of falling in love.”

Kihyun frowns, his eyes still leaking tears. Minhyuk crouches and then kneels, reaching to hold Kihyun around his shoulders to pull him into a hug.

“Am I in love?” Kihyun asks.

“Perhaps,” Minhyuk says, rubbing Kihyun’s back. He starts to rock Kihyun back and forth like a mother would an upset child.

“How could a broken thing be in love?” Kihyun asks. His fingers press against Minhyuk like claws as he holds back a sob. “How--?”

“Shh,” Minhyuk says. He draws one hand up to the base of Kihyun’s skull and presses him harder against his chest, kneading the tender flesh at the back of Kihyun’s neck with his fingers. “You aren’t broken, Kihyunnie.”

They are late showing up for the start of the evening, Kihyun’s hand in Minhyuk’s at the top of the steps somehow warding off any rebuke about to fall from Hoseok’s or Hyunwoo’s lips. Minhyuk doesn’t let go until he has to, when one of his clients claims him for the night.

.

Kihyun’s smaller form curls against Minhyuk’s body in bed. He’d come over again, and for once Minhyuk isn’t sure if Kihyun had gone to Hoseok first. The moon is full and shining a crisp, silver light into the bedroom as Minhyuk watches Kihyun sleep.

He takes one of Kihyun’s hands tightened into a fist and unfurls it one finger at a time, slowly so that Kihyun doesn’t wake, threading his fingers through Kihyun’s so that their palms are pressed together between their chests. He brings Kihyun’s hand up to his mouth and kisses the younger boy’s knuckles.

Kihyun stirs, but only to move closer. What he’d said earlier about being broken replays in Minhyuk’s mind. Kihyun really believed it, that he was broken. Maybe that’s why Hoseok had fallen for him so hard -- fixer of broken things. Maybe that’s why Minhyuk had gravitated to him, too -- breaker.

Minhyuk's eyes gleam in the moonlight, lit from within. He scrapes his teeth over Kihyun’s knuckles, and when Kihyun doesn’t wake, takes the tip of Kihyun’s ring finger into his mouth and bites, soft, gradually increasing pressure. Kihyun’s expression twists into one of discomfort, and he tries to pull his hand away in his sleep. Minhyuk allows it to leave his grip, smiling at the tiny teeth marks he’s left in Kihyun’s skin.

“Shh,” he soothes, brushing his hand over Kihyun’s forehead to push his hair back. “So pretty,” he says, for no one to hear.

He brings his hand lower, until it’s covering Kihyun’s mouth and nose. Presses down, his heart skipping a beat, jumping wildly in his chest. He grins.

It takes long moments for Kihyun’s body to realize it needs air. Minhyuk keeps his hand over Kihyun even as the other boy tries to turn his face away. He can imagine the burn in Kihyun’s lungs if this keeps up, how by the time Kihyun gains consciousness it would be almost too late. He’d start to kick and plead with his eyes for Minhyuk to relent, to give him oxygen. Minhyuk could grant him mercy or keep his hand over Kihyun until he stops kicking. Another thrill shoots up his spine.

Kihyun’s head thrashes back and forth and Minhyuk lets go, watching as Kihyun’s body relaxes, watching as his lungs drag in breath after breath, cool satisfaction pooling in Minhyuk’s gut.

Kihyun wakes blearily, disoriented, reaching for Minhyuk. “What--”

“Shh,” Minhyuk says, holding him closer. “You had a bad dream.”

“A bad dream,” Kihyun repeats, still not fully lucid. His arms wind tight around Minhyuk’s waist like this could tether him to the real world.

Minhyuk smiles, rubbing his hand down Kihyun’s back and kissing the top of Kihyun’s head. "Don't worry, Kihyunnie," he whispers into the smaller boy's ear, "I'll keep you safe. I promise."

.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for your patience! i wanted to update with a part focused on minhyuk's character.... >.> thanks for reading. comments are appreciated. come find me on twitter @andnowforyaya <3
> 
>  
> 
> **October 2, 2017 Update:**
> 
>  
> 
> @vampireminhyuk drew fanart!! here's [minhyuk putting make-up on kihyun](https://twitter.com/vampireminhyuk/status/915033156998303744).


End file.
